


Fanboy

by CrimesOfADeadpool



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Deadpool Thought Boxes, First Kiss, M/M, Mild Angst, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimesOfADeadpool/pseuds/CrimesOfADeadpool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Peter rolled his eyes. “Where did you even get them?”</i><br/><i>Wade gave him an innocent look. “My killer abs? Well, a good exercise plan and a healthy di-”</i><br/><i>“Not that,” Peter said with an exaggerated eye roll. “The pants.”</i><br/><i>The sweat pants covered in little miniature spider-man faces.</i><br/>Wade has Spider-Man pants. Peter is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanboy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: - Wade is a monstrous Spidey fanboy and when Peter is visiting him to study, Wade opens the door in Spidey sweat pants. (http://spideypoolfanfics.tumblr.com/post/84126057903/prompt-wade-is-a-monstrous-spidey-fanboy-and-when)
> 
> So in this fic, Peter's in some sort of school and Wade is only a few years older than him. Or the same age if you want. And technically Peter could be in university if you wanted. Idk, it's open to interpretation.
> 
> Uh, I wrote the first part a few months back, so there may be some discrepancies. Also what the hell brain, why that touch of angst?

Peter was practising the ancient art of balancing.  
In one hand, he held the pizza box. In the other, the bag of chimichangas. He was also holding the bottle of drink under his arm, and his school work under the other.  
This was a waste of his talents. He was a superhero. But here he was, making his way to Wade’s apartment because some idiot had decided to start building something on his block and it was hard enough to concentrate on his work with the whole super-villain-attacking-New-York-every-half-hour.  
He walked – waddled? – up to the door and used his free foot to kick at the door.  
There was the sound of shuffling and a half naked Wade opened the door, scratching at his unmasked face.  
“Peter?” he asked groggily. “What are you doing here?”  
“You said I could study here,” Peter said, side-stepping him into the apartment and dropping the food onto the bench.  
Wade turned around to watch him, shutting the door softly. “Was that today?” he murmured.  
Peter nodded. If it had been anyone else, he’d have flushed and asked if it was still okay, but this was Wade and he’d spent the last few nights listening to drilling and yelling. “It was. I bought food.” He gave Wade a once-over and frowned. “What are you wearing?”  
Wade looked down and seemed to regain his senses. “What’s wrong Petey? Am I wearing too many clothes for you?”  
Peter closed the distance between them and pulled at the pants. “Not what I’m referring to.”  
“But you’re thinking it now, right?”  
Peter rolled his eyes. “Where did you even get them?”  
Wade gave him an innocent look. “My killer abs? Well, a good exercise plan and a healthy di-”  
“Not that,” Peter said with an exaggerated eye roll. “The pants.”  
The sweat pants covered in little miniature spider-man faces.  
Wade grinned. “On a street corner.”  
Peter sighed and leant against the bench. “ _Why?”_  
Wade shrugged. “Because I get lonely and I like the way you look on my crotch.”  
“Great. If I didn’t have to stay here, I’d leave and never come back. I think I need to bleach my mind.”  
Wade pouted. “Always so rude.”  
Peter gave him a look and picked up his papers to carry them over to the table, while Wade rummaged through the food.  
Finally he joined Peter at the table.  
“Science stuff?” he asked through a mouthful of food. He leant sideways in his chair and put his legs on the table.  
“Yep,” Peter said, not looking up from his papers.  
“You sure you don’t want me to kill those construction guys?”  
“Yeah cos cops poking around is much better than builders.”  
“They’re quieter.”  
Deadpool groaned and reached over for the bottle of coke. Peter grabbed it from his reach.  
“Cup,” Peter said firmly.  
Deadpool groaned again but did as he was bid.  
He sat back down and his feet hit the table with a thud. Peter looked up and instantly regretted it. His face, plastered a hundred times over Deadpool’s legs. He flushed.  
“Can’t you change?”  
“Don’t be jealous baby, I’m still yours.”  
“You _aren’t_ mine.”  
There was a pause.  
“Definitely jealous,” Wade said to himself.  
Peter groaned. “Not jealous.”  
“My house, Petey, my rules. My awesome fashion choices.” He crossed his ankles.  
Peter rolled his eyes and tried focussing on his work. Little Spidey-Heads floated in his eyes. He dropped his pencil and rubbed his eyes.  
He _wasn’t_ jealous. He wasn’t. It was just…weird. He wondered if Wade had any other spider-man merchandise.  
He was suddenly plagued by images of rooms filled with Spider-Man posters and toys and clothes and god knows what.  
Wade watched him curiously. “If you want me to take them off,” his hand lazily reached for his pants line.  
“No!” Peter yelled.  
Wade grinned. “There you are Peter, I was beginning to think my beauty had overcome you.”  
“No I was just amazed that you think that’s fashion.”  
Wade plucked an imaginary hair from the pants. “Everything’s fashion, baby boy. These just happen to be extra stylish.”  
“Right…” he looked down and read the first question.  
Wade scratched at the pant leg. Somehow Peter was watching him again. Wade caught his eye and gave him a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Peter scowled.  
“I don’t know why I thought your apartment would be better than mine.”  
In a second, Wade jumped across the table and sat himself on Peter’s lap. “Rude,” he purred.  
Peter froze, lifting his hands away from Wade’s body.  
“I mean,” Wade continued, not noticing Peter’s discomfort. “After all, I let you into my apartment, to study for your,” he waved his hand, “science thing.”  
Peter looked up at him. “You offered,” he reminded him.  
Wade pouted. “My only fault is that I care too much,” he lamented.  
“Yeah, that’s your only fault.” Peter reached around and grabbed his papers, making a show of paying attention to it, and _not_ the merc seated on his lap.  
Wade sat there patiently for a while. Peter actually managed to absorb half the page before Wade started bouncing. Peter sighed.  
“ _What?”_  
“Nothing, Petey, keep going.”  
Peter raised an eyebrow. “…Okay.”  
Wade nodded and closed his eyes, nestling against Peter’s neck. Peter decided to just go with it. He was great at ignoring Wade. Even when Wade was half naked and straddling his lap.  
“Mmm, warm.”  
Peter sighed and put down the papers, pulling Wade away from his neck. “ _Wade_?”  
“Oh Petey, don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here, clad in mini pictures of you, and be content that with that.”  
Peter folded his arms, which would probably look more intimidating if his elbows weren’t rubbing against Wade’s stomach. “ _What?”_  
Wade shrugged and tried to rest against him again.  
Peter didn’t move his arms.  
“ _Tired_ ,” Wade complained.  
“Then go to bed,” Peter retorted. “You don’t need to be here.”  
Wade gave him a dark look and before Peter knew it, Wade was gone, disappeared down the corridor. Peter waited a second, then cursed to himself, following Wade.  
He knocked on the bedroom door.  
“Go away.” Wade’s reply was muffled.  
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah right.” He opened the door and stepped into the room.  
Wade had dropped himself onto the bed. Peter walked up to him and scowled. “What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Wade, I have work to do, I can’t play games.”  
Wade tilted his head to look up at him. “Games. Yes, games.” He waved his hand. “Go study, baby boy.”  
There was a silence. Peter circled the bed and slipped onto the opposite side, resting his head on his hands. “You better not be trying anything.”  
Wade didn’t reply, so Peter poked him in his ribs.  
“Oof.” He turned his head to Peter. “ _Abuse_.”  
Peter moved closer to him. “All the times I tell you shut up and you choose _now_ to obey?”  
“What can I say, that’s what you love about me.”  
“Yeah, that’s it.” Peter replied sarcastically.  
Wade picked up his head hopefully, making Peter frown in confusion.  
“What’s this about?” Peter asked finally.  
Wade shrugged. “No I can’t say that!” he exclaimed after a pause, clearly talking to the voices in his head. Sometimes Peter wished he could hear those voices. He was pretty sure a lot of Wade’s behaviour would be explained away. At least, he hoped.  
“Say what?” he asked dryly.  
“Nothing.” Pause. “No I’m not telling him, you tell him.” Pause. “Then I guess _no one’s_ telling him.” Pause. “Good, cos I’m fine with this…Fine…Fine… _Fine.”_  
Peter wished he had a watch so he could look at it pointedly. “Wade if you’re going to talk to yourself I’m going to go.”  
“Good…No I don’t need him. _You_ need him.”  
Peter ran a hand through his hair and made a noise.  
Wade glared at him. “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of a fight.”  
“About me,” Peter pointed out. “Mind filling me in?”  
Wade sat up, eyeing Peter. “Can’t a guy fight with the voices in his head about a boy without being interrogated by said boy during said fight?”  
Peter blinked. “…No-ooo?”  
Wade folded his arms. “Then what do you suggest?”  
“Start at the beginning?”  
Wade blew out some air. “Nope.” He closed his eyes. “No, nope, nah, nein, ectera ectera.”  
Peter flicked him between the eyes.  
“ _Abuse_ ,” Wade complained again.  
“I’m a superhero,” Peter said. “I can force the information out of you.”  
“Ooh, sounds fun, I’ll get the handcuffs.” There was none of his usual playfulness.  
“Maybe you should,” Peter retorted, fed up.  
Wade opened one eye lazily. “Ha. Don’t get my hopes up, you didn’t even care about the pants.”  
“The pants?”  
Wade shrugged it off.  
Peter pinched him. “ _Pants_?”  
“Nothing Peter. Shut up,” he told the voices in his head. “I can’t say it without sounding like a creep. I _know_ I’m a creep,” he added. “But owning up to it now would be wrong.”  
Peter scanned his memory. “Is this about me being jealous about the pants?”  
“You don’t have to pretend you care about the pants Peter, it’s my own fault for not remembering you were coming over and changing out of them. Not exactly the way I wanted this fantasy to play out. Then again, it’s not as if you’d ever-” He coughed, his eyes widening slightly as he realised perhaps admitting too much. “Uh, you know.” He shrugged.  
“Not a clue.”  
Wade nodded. “Good.”  
Peter worked through it. “Fantasy?”  
“Don’t mind if I do.”  
“Wade, focus. What do you want from me?”  
“A kiss.” The words were out of Wade’s mouth seamlessly. “Or you know,” he added quickly. “A hug. Chimichangas. There’s a bag on the bench right?” He jumped out of the bed, but was pulled back by Peter. " _Ah_ …”  
Peter searched his face curiously, then leant in, kissing Wade tentatively. Wade didn’t open his mouth, so Peter just gently kissed the scars on his lips. He hesitated a second before pulling away.  
Wade was frozen. “Uh…no. Pretty sure this is a hallucination now. What was in that coke you gave me?”  
“Syrup, I think.” Peter shrugged.  
“So if this is a hallucination…” he leant in. “Another kiss?”  
Peter pushed him away gently. “Fantasy?”  
Wade grumbled.  
Peter waited, pushing away the sudden fear as realization sunk in. He had _kissed_ Wade.  
“Fantasy?” he demanded again, focussing on that instead. It was suddenly incredibly important.  
Wade shrugged half-heartedly. “What do the ramblings of a mad man matter when we could be sucking each other’s imaginary faces?”  
“The only way you’re going to suck anything is…” he groaned and cut himself off.  
“Ooh, anything? Imaginary-Peter, you’re so forward.” Wade pinned Peter to the bed, moving to sit on top of him.  
“Tell me what the fantasy was, Wade.”  
Wade shrugged. “Nothing. You know. Just. Pants. You. Me. Lust.”  
“You’re upset I didn’t jump you in those pants.”  
“ _Well,_ we were supposed to be dating a few weeks before I bought them out. You know, as a kink thing.”  
“Kink thing,” Peter repeated emotionlessly.  
“Mmmhhmm. So, where’s that kiss you promised?”  
Peter sighed and pulled himself up for a kiss. This time Wade opened his mouth and responded enthusiastically, biting Peter’s bottom lip and moaning in a way that could only be described as pornographically. After they pulled away for air, Peter tilted his head to whisper in Wade’s ear.  
“Wade?”  
“Mmm?”  
“Not a hallucination.” Peter used Wade’s momentary lapse to slip out from him grip.  
Wade was looking at him in horror.  
Peter grinned in reply. He finally felt he had some power over Wade. “I do have work to do,” he informed him. “But I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”  
With that, he left the room.  
  
XXX  
  
A few minutes later, Wade slipped into the chair across from Peter.  
“Hey baby boy,” Wade said cautiously.  
Peter looked up from his papers to shoot him a grin. “Hey.”  
Wade nodded as if Peter had raised an interesting topic. “Yep.”  
There was a silence.  
“It was totally the pants,” Wade told the voices.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, this is probably crap but... urghhh~~~


End file.
